Passing Days
by Nikitty
Summary: A life-threateningly ill Okita, a promised visit every day from Hijikata, everything was fated to end badly for the both of them. No romantic pairings. Friendship and tragedy multi-chapter fanfiction.


**A/N: **Seems like this is my very first multi-chapter fanfic. I'm worried that I won't be able to commit to completing it, but I promise to try my best. I'll explain myself regarding this story at the end, where there won't be any spoilers. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: I do not own Gintama or its characters**

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_Anemone: Flower of Illness; Approaching Rain_

* * *

"You're awfully quiet today," Hijikata Toushirou carefully probed, hands shoved deep in his pockets to look as disinterested as possible.

Walking by the older man's side, Okita Sougo smirked, "Why? Are you worried about me, Hijikata-san?"

Hijikata glared at his subordinate from the corner of his eye, but knew better than to pick a fight while on patrol as he monotonously replied, "Of course not. It's just my job as vice-commander to check on the welfare of other officers."

"I would make a better vice-commander than you, Hijikata-san," Scuffing at the dirt path they were on and kicking up a cloud of dust, Okita added absolutely nothing of any value or importance to their conversation.

Hijikata's eyebrow twitched in annoyance, but he stayed silent, expecting an answer to his first statement. The day was unusually warm as they both strolled through the streets in silence, casting long shadows behind them while they walked past small, local businesses with just barely enough customers to keep them going.

Finally, Okita broke the silence. "I'm having some slight chest pains," He admitted, responding to Hijikata's question. The teenager paused for a while before adding in, "It's minor though. Please don't bother Kondou-san about it."

Hijikata frowned, "It could be something more serious than you think." He sighed in irritation, "Geez, and you'd just recovered from that fever recently too."

Shrugging, Okita disagreed, diverting Hijikata's attention from the topic, "Nah, like I said, the pain's pretty dull. It's manageable. I hope Hijikata-san, on the other hand, would feel pain, though."

The black-haired man surveyed Okita skeptically, sensibly ignoring the boy's last statement, then relented, "Alright then, brat."

An old lady running a modestly-sized traditional bakery smiled and waved at them as they passed, and Hijikata nodded in greeting to her. He saw Okita wave a hand slightly from beside him too. Suddenly, he sensed the chestnut-haired boy tense up as he stopped in his tracks, lowering his hand. "Sougo?" Hijikata hesitantly questioned, slowing down in his walking too.

Okita looked up at him, crimson eyes turning towards Hijikata as Okita jabbed his thumb over his shoulder, gesturing to somewhere behind him with a cheeky look on his face. Looking back on it, his expression looked slightly different from usual, though Hijikata couldn't quite tell what it was. "I saw something interesting in that alleyway over there. I'll go see what it was."

The vice-commander let out a soft 'Tch' and mumbled, "You're not a damn kid anymore, stop getting excited over every stupid thing," but he still nodded and added in, "Come back soon."

Hijikata watched as the boy backtracked and ran towards the direction they came from. The demonic vice-commander noted that Okita was in a surprising hurry, but he brushed it off, lighting his cigarette as he stood and waited. He swore that he saw a slight limp in Okita's steps, just barely visible if you look carefully, but he also passed it off as a mere skip in his step.

He leaned in against an old, faulty streetlamp that flickered dimly even though it was only mid-noon and should have been off. Families, businessmen, MADAOs, and many other civilians of Edo walked past him in a blur, their faces already forgotten by Hijikata.

Hijikata wiped the back of his hand against his sweaty forehead and gritted his teeth. "That idiot!" The vice-commander hissed as he kicked the streetlamp, earning a few frightened glances from passersby. Mothers carefully tugged at their child's tiny hands and pulled them along a different route. "That bastard's skipping duties again!"

Clenching his fists, he stormed his way to the alleyway, cold eyes sharp and absolutely murderous. His strides sped up as he neared the junction of the dark, filthy alley and quickly rounded the corner. "Sougo! You here?" He snarled as his pupils darted around. They finally settled on one corner of the narrow pathway.

Beside a mossy, fungi-covered dumpster was a small, trembling teenager crouched over in a pool of dark red, sticky liquid. The choking scent of the fluid Hijikata had grown to hate so much hit his nose, clouding his senses as he stepped back, shocked. Lifting up trembling hands, he covered his nose in a futile attempt at blocking out the sharp metallic tang that hung in the air. The boy slowly turned around, eyes as crimson as the blood pooling at his feet meeting Hijikata's gunmetal blue ones in a silent plea for help. A weak, shaking palm was pressed firmly against his mouth, carmine blood dripping down his chin and staining his hand. He once again bent over as a bout of coughing passed, making more red liquid splatter against the ground. Feebly, the teenager looked back up, eyes tearing up from the immense agony. "Hijikata-san," he whimpered, voice broken and raspy. "What's happening?" His hazed eyes rolled up and Okita Sougo fell back, slouched and limp against the unused bin.

* * *

"Calling for visitors of Okita Sougo."

Immediately, everyone in the waiting room stood up, the uniformed men turning their heads towards the old, bearded doctor, staring expectantly at him. He flinched at the number of gazes impaling him, trampling and stabbing at his guts. "S-sorry, maybe only two or three people?" The white-haired man ventured hesitantly.

Isao Kondou shot a glance at Hijikata who was leaning against the corner of the sickly green walls and stepped up, voice unusually solemn, "Toshi and I will go. Right, Toshi?"

Hijikata pulled out a cigarette from between his lips, earning a slight frown from the doctor in his presence. "Sure," he exhaled, breathing out a thin wisp of ash grey smoke. "It's probably nothing though. Sougo'll be fine."

"I'm Doctor Hirabayashi," The doctor in the white trench coat began, holding out a hand. Kondou gratefully took it and shook it firmly. "Before we proceed," Hirabayashi narrowed is eyes, glaring pointedly at Hijikata, "allow me to remind you that smoking is not allowed on the premises."

The vice-commander sighed, rolling his eyes, but still crushed the butt of the cancer stick against his sleeve and tossed it with deadly precision into the metal trash bin across him.

The doctor, even from his short height, looked at the two men in their eyes, meeting their gazes levelly. "Would you like me to give the diagnosis in front of the patient or would you like to break it to him yourselves?"

Hijikata shrugged, dismissively drawling, "Sougo's strong enough. He can take whatever you say."

Dark eyes brimming with worry, Kondou meekly argued, "But we know him best right? Won't it be better if we were the ones who told him?"

Reaching up and patting the commander's shoulder comfortingly, Hijikata assured, "It'll be fine." He gave a curt nod at the doctor, a soundless approval for Hirabayashi to carry on. "Lead the way, doctor."

_That brat. Putting us through so much trouble, _Hijikata sighed silently, distracting himself from the potential severity of the situation. As he followed behind the doctor briskly, his eyes roamed around, taking in his surroundings. The ugly green wallpaper, the old, wooden door frames, the cheesy elevator music softly emanating from speakers above head, all a perfect marriage of the traits of a typical hospital. It was considered Edo's best hospital, however, which was probably saying something about their country's healthcare system.

The short man leading the Shinsengumi officers halted at a door, rapping his knuckles against the dense wood and slowly depressing the handle, allowing them in.

"Ah, good to see that you're awake," The doctor smiled, trying to appease the patient.

Hijikata stepped in and the first thing he noticed were the big, sterile white hospital beds in the center of the room. _So it's a shared room. There's another patient, though he doesn't seem to be here yet._ Hijikata walked up to the occupied bed, greeted with an annoyed glare from a familiar light-brown haired teenager.

Okita was dressed in your typical black-spotted green hospital gown, legs covered by a thick, white duvet as he sat up. "Not one word from you, Hijkata-san," He mumbled, wincing as his voice cracked from the blood coughed up the day before.

Shoving the vice-commander aside, Kondou threw his arms around Okita, careful to avoid the IV needles gruesomely sticking out from his arm as he squeezed the boy tightly, making Okita's usually dead-like eyes bug out.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I'd like to begin with the more pressing issues at hand here," Hirabayashi cleared his throat, casting a hard stare at Kondou, who reluctantly let his subordinate go.

"So after a check-up on you and an evaluation of yesterday's… incident, we'd come to a diagnosis." The doctor carefully said his next few words, steadying his voice and choosing the delivery of his sentence carefully.

"Okita, tell me. Do you know what Tuberculosis is?"

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**A/N: **Well, so I had the idea for this story when doing research on the historical figure Sougo was based on, Okita Souji. He had apparently died of tuberculosis, so I was thinking, wouldn't that mean Sougo had tuberculosis too? Actually, if I'm not wrong, the author of Gintama had given the tuberculosis to Mitsuba instead, but let's ignore that fact :P


End file.
